


Like a Knife Loves Skin

by BarlowGirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent POV, Allison POV, F/M, I think this was in the middle of 3A, Prompt Fill, Standard Kate Argent Warning, but non-graphic, mentions of canon kate/derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarlowGirl/pseuds/BarlowGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt: "I love you like a knife loves skin". Written almost a year ago and I'm just housekeeping now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Knife Loves Skin

**Author's Note:**

> The original version is on my tumblr [here](http://barlowstreet.tumblr.com/post/55325762744/prompt-i-love-you-like-a-knife-loves-skin). Edited lightly from that.
> 
> I really, really loved the way Allison was in 3A. I loved the hard edges she had, the broken bits, the way she wasn't the same girl. I like that kind of story _so_ much.
> 
> I'm still angry.

Sometimes in her darker moments, late at night in her cold bed, Allison thinks her heart is cursed. She’s not usually prone to dramatics like that, but she can’t deny that bad things happen to people she loves.

Kate, for example. Kate who wasn’t even a full decade older than her, Kate who was clever and beautiful and everything Allison wanted to be when she grew up, Kate who sometimes she’s still terrified of becoming. Kate who used a teenaged boy’s heart to destroy his family. Kate who turned eighteen and convinced Allison’s parents to let her take Allison to Disneyland when Allison was nine, the first real vacation she’d ever been on, who took her on the scariest rides and held her hand and laughed when Allison screamed during the drops.

Kate who she loved like a sister and Kate who died in the house where she murdered eight people.

And her mother. Her mother taught her to be strong. Her mother taught her to stand on her own feet. Her mother taught her that the world was a hard, cruel place, full of people ready and willing to cause her pain, and yes, Allison is realizing her mother sounds like the mother from Tangled, but the cold hard truth is that the world is not a Disney movie and sometimes, sometimes her mother was right.

And sometimes Allison likes who she’s becoming. Sometimes she likes the traces of her mom she sees in the mirror, and she likes that she can protect herself and her friends, she likes that she is becoming stronger and harder. She _hates_ being afraid and helpless. She wants to carry her family’s legacy in her hands when she holds her bow. She wants to feel the strength of the women who came before her. She wants to fight like them, protect like herself and others like them, she wants to lead like they did.

But her mother also tried to teach her how to crush the soft, vulnerable places inside her. And her mother taught her that her art, her poetry, her interests, none of those were as important as things that would train her to hunt without actually telling her what she was supposed to become. Her mother taught her that their family would rather die than admit that maybe, sometimes, they were the so-called monsters.

Her mother taught her that Allison’s love, Allison’s choices, were something to kill for. Something to die for.

And sometimes, in her darker moments, Allison wishes she could learn how not to love Scott. He was never made for this kind of life, she knows. He was… sweet, smarter than most people gave him credit for, beautiful in ways she can’t begin to describe. She thinks sometimes he’s a natural leader in a completely different way than she tries to be, encouraging and easy and amazing in the way he looks at people when he listens to them. He listens when _she_ talks about the silly hobbies she took up and dropped and doesn’t even have to fake interest, unabashedly likes the bubblegum pop music that she pretends not to, never, ever touches her without permission. He’s just… good.

In her darker moments, Allison is afraid of ruining Scott the way Kate ruined Derek. She could, she thinks, and it terrifies her.

She rolls onto her side and kisses the bands around Scott’s arm as he lays sprawled on his stomach across her warm bed. He stirs, reaching for her in his sleep.

"Love you," he mumbles into the pillow.

She smoothes her hand down his spine. “Love you too,” she whispers, because she does, and she thinks she always will love Scott McCall. “Love you."

Loves him like a knife loves skin, she thinks, and is terrified.


End file.
